Wagons East: Part Two - Getting it Done

Working downriver, we fished several beautiful runs. The river was practically vacant considering it was a Saturday, the poor weather on roads leading to this Steelhead paradise being the main culprit.

In one particular run, we hit gold... Blake started the hot streak with a beautiful fish on the nymph rod.

I began to swing the bottom end of the run, working a seam that was practically mid-river. With my 11' switch rod, I got into a rhythm booming out a few casts to fish the seam effectively.

As I reached the tail end of the seam, I found myself standing on a rocky outcrop, trying not to slip while making one more distant cast. I made my cast into the seam followed by a quick mend... soon enough, I felt a distinct tug, tug, tug, and dropped my rod to the side. FISH ON!

It was a great feeling, and I sure as heck wasn't going to lose the fish. With help from Blake and Ryan, I brought the fish to the net. Naturally, I fumbled the handoff for a photo opportunity, and off went the fish (Note to self: bring mesh landing glove every time I fish!)

There was no photo evidence of the fish, but I was still shaking in disbelief. After 14 months of trying, I had finally swung up a fish on a two-handed fly rod.

Ryan took his turn working the run, as I took a break to ponder the moment. Blake's Springer Spaniel, Otto, joined me as we watched the guys continue to fish.

After what only seemed like five minutes sitting back and watching the guys fish, I hear another "fish on" and look downriver. Ryan is hooked up on the swing...

Ryan and Blake were machine like in fighting and netting the fish, a bright hen. This fish also decided to be shy for the camera, but we couldn't have cared less. 3 fish in the same run? What a day!

I couldn't keep watching the guys thump on fish, so I grabbed my nymph rod and worked the top of the run. Sure enough, fish on! A feisty fish came to the net, and I had my third Steelhead of the day!

Blake matched with another nymphed up Steelhead and we called it quits with five fish in the same run... what a day it had been.

Cold beers, warm brats, and chili kept us content despite the early setting sun. The red hot fishing had me wishing for the longer days of September, but we had a good plan for our last day on the river.

Sunday came, and we worked separate runs to start the day with nary a tug to show for it. Heading back to our go-to run from the day before, we hoped our fortunes would change.

The guys immediately went to swing the bottom half of the run, while I nymphed up top. After a few whitefish, including one that struck my indicator, I briefly hooked up to a Steelhead. Having lost my first fish of the trip, I was feeling fairly agitated. Without rechecking my rig, I kept casting and soon my indicator buried into the flow. I set hard, but nothing was there. Checking my rig, I figured out why... the fish had broken me off!

The guys kept signaling that they were getting "bumps" while swinging below and I couldn't help but get into the action.

After Ryan had gotten far enough down the run, I began to throw a few long distance casts. Not far from where I had gotten my first swung fish the day prior, my line went tight... fish on!

Photo by Ryan Bailey

This fish was a real treat. Aerial displays, long runs, and the sort of determination that wild Steelhead are known for. It took my own tied fly (another Steelhead first for me) and was the first fish that I've landed with my Hardy reel, which sang beautifully while the fish made its runs.

Photo by Ryan Bailey

After some tasteful photos, the little buck swam back into the river's current. The trip couldn't have gotten any better.

Or so I thought.

It was nearly time to head back to camp to pack up and head home. I asked Blake if I could get a few last casts in behind him, and I went to work.

With barely my shooting head out of the rod tip, my line went tight again... fish on! Another beautiful wild Steelhead had taken my self tied fly, and the fight was on. The beautiful wild hen Steelhead put on  another special show, and capped what will be an unforgettable trip for me.

Over a few days, we had combined to catch ten Steelhead... TEN! I finally got a fish swinging the two handed rod (three of them to boot), got Steelhead on my own flies, and explored new water. Getting to spend time with two good friends was the real kicker to this great trip. I certainly owe them a few days of local knowledge (however crappy it may be) on my home rivers!

As I made the seven hour drive back home, I kept replaying the trip in my mind. I headed East to get it done on the swing... Now to get it done on some of the west side rivers!

Photo by Ryan Bailey

Wagons East... Part One

Wagon's East, a 1994 film that holds an impressive 0% rating on Rotten Tomatoes is something of an enigma. First off, it's absolutely terrible... no way around that one. Second off, it doesn't seem to make much sense. I mean, sure the wild west was tough and all, but who would give up potential greatness to head back East?

Well, I may have a few chrome bright Winter Steelhead trickling into my area rivers, but I decided to make a bold decision myself. I eschewed the chrome winter fish that are beginning to show on my local streams, and loaded my wagon of an SUV and hit the road.

I was headed East, chasing the colored up fish of Summer that were just arriving to the Grande Ronde and Snake River basin. I had caught these fish months ago on the Columbia when they were as chrome bright as their Winter cousins and now I was looking to connect with them again.

Up until this trip, It'd been a slow month of fishing.

I had worked hard trying to pick up an odd Coho or late Summer Steelhead on numerous local rivers. I fished a small river on the coast that required a two mile hike to get to the first pool above the confluence with the Pacific. With a friend and his sons, I helped them get into a heap of Sea-Runs on the Cowlitz with my tied flies. I witnessed my brother catch his first trout on the fly which was pretty special too.

Above all those things, I continued my skunk-fest of swung Steelhead on the spey rod. So when I had contacted my East side friends about extending a work travel trip into a fishing weekend, I began to think the tide was going to turn. No, I wasn't terribly confident. A year of posting zeroes on the board does not exactly inspire confidence, but fishing the Grande Ronde and Snake can give you a slight feeling of hope.

The Ronde and Snake have relatively large (compared to many west side streams) or concentrated runs of Steelhead. That in itself is amazing because of all of the challenges these fish face (dams, predators, Columbia water temps). Despite these challenges, the fish continue to return each year and my friends from Spokane have gotten the fishery pretty dialed in.

Meeting with my friends on Friday was fantastic. A drive through lonely, albeit beautiful country lead me up gravel roads and a chance run in with Blake on his way back to camp. We set up camp, enjoyed a beverage, and rigged up our rods. Soon enough, we were hiking into holes and Blake was hooked up on his first Steelhead of the trip. The little wild hen inspired a little confidence in my mind that we were in for a good weekend.

Ryan showed up in the evening and we cooked up some camp dinner, enjoyed a few brews, and talked about Steelhead... non-stop. As we tucked in for the night, a storm came over the region and we were absolutely plastered with rain. Thoughts of west side Winter Steelheading came to mind and I wondered if this trip would turn into another west side style "zero" for me.

We woke up to grey skies and a slightly raised river. By 7 AM, I had my first steelhead of the trip. My first nymphed up steelhead in a long time, and my winter nightmare was averted. The little hatchery hen got a quick "thanks" and then was quickly dispatched, destined for the smoker. The day's skunk worn off, we worked run after run, and despite not turning up more fish, I had a good feeling about the rest of the trip.

To be continued...

Love/Hate

Fly fishing can truly be a best of times/worst of times type of deal...

Somedays you catch fish. Sometimes you catch lots of fish. Other times you don't even get a hook up. When steelhead fishing, I never seem to get a hook up.

Sometimes the weather is perfect. When steelhead fishing lately, the weather sucks.

You can probably see where this is going...

This feast/famine mentality isn't in the experience itself but also in the crowd you surround yourself with on the water. Let's face it... great people and crappy folks alike share the water with you.

I've compiled a list of things to love and hate about fly fishing. Feel free to have fun with it and chime in.

Things to love:
1. Getting out and fishing... duh. It always beats a day in the office.
2. Catching fish... I'm not necessarily all about the "experience" factor. Sometimes a day on the nymph rod is in order!
3. Cutthroat... see number 2 for more explanation.
4. Tying flies. It's a great for passing down time on a rainy day and it saves money in the long run on your favorite/most common patterns.
5. Sharing the water with friends. There are few things better than good fishing friends. Share stories, talk sports, drink beer, and fish with someone.
6. Getting out and exploring new water. Enough said.
7. Embracing the history of the sport and holding that history close to your heart.
8. Teaching others the sport. While it can be frustrating teaching a beginner, it's also enjoyable to get them into fish. Remember your roots and that someone suffered when you were flailing away, losing flies to trees and brush left and right!
9. Montana. Duh.
10. A good pair of waders and comfort while fishing.

Things to dislike:
1. Not going fishing. Adverse water conditions, crap weather, and work can sure derail a fishing trip.
2. Not catching fish... duh.
3. Steelhead. They are opposite of Cutthroat as they are hard as heck to find and thus hard to catch. At least for me. They do qualify for the love category should you catch one.
4. Spending too dang much money for quality gear. I hate crappy equipment and I've made my share of mistakes over the past few years going cheap and regretting it immensely. That said, why must fly fishing be so expensive?
5. Sharing the water with ass-hats. Whether they fish flies or gear, the plethora of rude people on the local waterways here astounds me. What ever happened to common courtesy? Beyond that, stereotyping folks on the water is a joke. Just because someone fishes bait doesn't automatically make them a terrible person. Likewise, just because I'm swinging a run doesn't mean that I'm an elitist who drives a BMW. Show respect to all anglers... 
6. Lack of water access. Fishing is not a crime and the lack of access on the rivers around southwest Washington is disturbing to someone so used to trout fishing with great to excellent access. I guess it could be worse (England perhaps), but since moving home it has been frustrating.
7. Driving way too far for too little fishing and even worse catching. 
8. Not having a boat... well, not having a river worthy boat is a better dislike topic. I do have a float tube and little lake boat but they aren't exactly river worthy. All in good time I suppose, all in good time.
9. Bat bites and falls down steep river banks. I'm apparently very susceptible to both and they really do suck.
10. Living so far from Montana.

Roscoe, the world's worst fishing dog also misses Montana... a lot. 

Life on the Road: The Snake River

My new job has many perks...

I get to meet many "fishy" people.
I get to talk fishing with said people.
I work for an organization that does things the right way and is making a difference for the fish.
I drive all over the great state of Washington.

One place that my job does not (yet anyways) take me is Clarkston, Washington. I figured a trip to Pasco on a Friday was close enough though, so I made the drive through "deer alley" to the Lewiston-Clarkston area where I met up with a jump shooting fly angler that goes by the name of Ryan.

Ryan and I have known each other for some time but we hadn't hit the water together. Thankfully that changed as Ryan showed me the ropes on the Snake River.

We had originally planned on fishing the Grande Ronde but sub-freezing temperatures had turned it into a Slurpee of sorts. The weather was brutal as we wandered up and down the Snake, chipping ice out of our guides, and taking full advantage of hand warmers and layers of fleece.

We both experienced a few "bumps" and even saw a fish working the surface (?!?) but neither of us hooked up that day.

Instead, I caught a cold, and a long drive back to Portland. But the experience of big, gorgeous water, and time spent with a friend was well worth it.

Maybe that first steelhead on the spey will come next week, on another new river, in another beautiful corner of Washington.

SW Washington Gold...

It was an absolutely frigid morning in Southwest Washington today.

A rare cool, and dry weather spell has dropped rivers to early fall levels and my buddy Nate Hall and I had to go wet a line for a bit.

Due to life's important responsibilities (namely Nate having to work) we only had a few hours to fish, but I'm glad that we both got our butts to the river this morning...

Because this happened:

After a good half hour of working a run, we decided to head upstream until we hit a private property line. Nate offered for me to fish through the run first but I declined (bad move)!

After a few casts, I hear an "oh $@*#" and turn to see a boil and Nate's rod getting worked... after several tense minutes and a walk/scamper nearly 150 yards downstream we had this beauty of a native Winter Steelhead to shore.

It was Nate's biggest winter Steelhead ever (I'd guess length at 32"-34") and it was a toad. I don't know about weight (he was thinking around 15 lbs) but I know it was something special. I especially love how Nate got it on one of his own personal ties.

We fished on this morning, still high on the moment of landing that special fish, but hoping that we'd at least hook up with another piece of anadromous gold. We explored new runs, got frustrated by lack of access in others, and even tried a new stretch of water, but we didn't move another fish.

Despite the personal skunking (not unusual for me when chasing these anadromous ghosts) I took away a few things from today's experience:
1. Fishing with friends, and seeing them hook into a fish so special as a native Steelhead is worth nearly as much to me as catching my own.
2. I need to fish more... my spey cast is regressing lately.
3. Repeat #2.
4. We need to make sure the WDFW Commission follows Oregon and moves to take gill nets off the Columbia River mainstream. Fish like this would NOT make it through the gill nets currently used on the Columbia. 

Watching that beautiful fish swim away just deepened my desire to get this spey casting thing down and to hook up with a winter fish. It will happen... it's just a matter of when!

This fish alone is a good argument against gill nets in the Columbia River mainstream.

Two Handed Fishing For Steelhead

Okay. I'm a rookie. Let's get that out of the way.

I've been a "serious" fly fisher for a year and a half now, and chasing Steelhead is my latest obsession.

Anyone who's fly fished for Steelhead knows that it's an ultimate challenge of sorts. Unless you're headed north to rivers that are packed to the gills with big, naive Steelhead, you are in for some serious torture.

The fish of a 1,000 casts is what they call Steelhead. And for that reason (among others... logistics being one!) spey (or two handed rod) is a great way to fish for these elusive creatures.

I gave in and recently picked up a used spey rod for a steal of a deal. It's not the fanciest of sticks out there, nor is the operator terribly skilled with it (yet) but it's cause for excitement nonetheless.

The lingo of this new style of fishing is like Swedish to me. I can't really understand it. Scandi? Skagit? T-14? Perry Poke? 510 or 540 grains? Volvo or Saab?! Help!?!?!

I've been scouring my local SW Washington rivers in search of Steelhead (and anything else that may bite my fly) for the past few weeks now, trying to figure out the nuances of the double spey, snake roll, and snap T casts. Let's just say, it's been a trying process. One cast, I rip it 70 feet on target... the next, a putrid mess that travels 40 feet. Frustration!

Prospecting on the upper Kalama.

Recently, I was able to share the water with a new fishing friend who's also begun the process of chasing steel on the spey rod. He's a few steps ahead of me though, and I can't begin to tell you how nice it is to actually watch people who kind of know what they're doing fish. Monkey see, monkey do... well, at least I try to make it happen.

On the last day that I was out we managed to land a dead Chinook salmon (fresh fish...), I caught a Whitey on my nymph rod (of course), and I did have a big time take down on a bobber rig. This game is going to be frustrating but I'll figure it out.

To anyone who cares to join me, I'll be out on my local rivers spey casting regularly. Sure, it's in-between seasons for the novice two handed fly fisherman like me, but you can't catch fish by sitting on the couch. And you sure as heck can't work on your cast from the couch either!